


Aftermath

by blueraccoon



Series: Gibbs/Reid [2]
Category: NCIS/Criminal Minds
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-19
Updated: 2009-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraccoon/pseuds/blueraccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You called me, remember? You came to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Las Vegas](http://blueraccoon.dreamwidth.org/793295.html) and probably won't make much sense without having read that. In my head, this takes place both post-"Aliyah" and "To Hell...And Back", but there are no spoilers for either ep in the fic.

The phone rings and Gibbs curses. If it's another case, he's going to strangle Dispatch. "Yeah, Gibbs," he says gruffly.

There's a pause, long enough for Gibbs to wonder if he got a prank call or a wrong number. "Gibbs," an unfamiliar voice says finally. "This--this is Reid."

Not a case. "Yeah," Gibbs says, rubbing a hand over his face. It's been a month since that night, and he'd pretty much figured Reid wasn't going to call. Something's going on.

Reid hesitates again. "I don't--I don't exactly know why I'm calling," he admits. "I should--I don't want to bother you--"

"Hey," Gibbs interrupts. Something's going on, all right. The kid sounds stressed, that hint of 'I can't take any more of this' in his voice. "You okay?"

"I don't know," Reid says. "I really don't."

"Okay. You have a car?"

"Yes," Reid says, a little dubiously.

Gibbs gives him his address. "Be here in an hour."

"Are you sure--you don't even--"

"Be here," Gibbs repeats.

"Okay," Reid says quietly. "I'll be there. Thank you."

Gibbs hangs up the phone and goes upstairs to change the sheets.

*****

The doorbell rings and Gibbs answers it, looking at Reid. He's dressed differently than last time, in khakis and a rumpled button-down shirt, and the shadows under his eyes make him look like he hasn't slept in weeks. "You look like hell," he says, stepping aside to let him enter. "You want to talk about it?"

Reid hunches his shoulders a little. "No," he says. "No, I don't."

They'll talk about it later. "Okay." Gibbs shuts the door and locks it. He doesn't want any interruptions right now. "C'mon."

He takes Reid upstairs and points him at the bathroom. "Shower. Everything you should need is on top of the toilet seat."

Reid tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "I--okay."

Gibbs watches him walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and waits until he hears the water start running before going to the bedroom.

About fifteen minutes later, the water shuts off. It's another minute or two before Reid walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp and combed back. His skin's pink from the water and he looks less haunted, a little less edgy. Gibbs holds out a hand, and Reid walks over to him, sitting down on the bed next to him.

He looks so damned young, with his hair off his face and the thin lines of his body not disguised by clothing. Young, but not innocent, not this one. "I don't know why I'm here," Reid says, looking down at the faded blue comforter. "I shouldn't be."

Gibbs tips his chin up, forcing Reid to look at him. "What do you need?" he asks quietly.

Reid's cheeks go pink and he looks away. "I don't want to be in my head right now," he says, almost whispering. "Do you know what it's like to be unable to forget?"

"Yeah." Gibbs turns his hand, brushing his thumb over Reid's cheek. "Yeah, I do."

He slides his hand into Reid's hair and gently pulls him closer, kissing him. Like the last time, Reid's a little awkward with it, a little stiff, until Gibbs curls his fingers around still-damp locks and tugs a little. Just enough to make Reid shiver and press against him, his mouth opening sweetly under Gibbs's.

Gibbs guides him to lie back against the bed, their mouths separating just long enough to let Gibbs toss the towel aside before settling against Reid, kissing him long and deep. Reid moves against him, restless and needy, keyed up enough that he gasps in surprise when Gibbs moves to lie on top of him, pinning his wrists over his head. He struggles just a little, hands twisting.

"You going to fight me?" Gibbs asks softly. "That what you need?" He tightens his grip and Reid whimpers. "I'm not letting you go unless you safeword."

Reid doesn't say anything, just pulls against Gibbs' grip, squirming under him, breath coming in short pants and gasps. Gibbs presses him back into the bed, giving him enough room to move, not enough to get free. "Go on," Gibbs tells him, almost taunting him. "You need to fight it? You need to know I've got you?"

"Please--" Reid whispers, breathless and desperate. He half-sobs, bucking up under Gibbs. "Please--"

"Safeword," Gibbs says. "You say that word and I stop, and everything stops. But that's not what you want, is it? You need this. You called me, remember? You came to me."

"Shouldn't have," Reid says thickly.

"I've got you," Gibbs says, ignoring that. "I've got you."

"Why?" Reid asks, managing to look at him. "What do you get out of this?"

"You in my bed," Gibbs says frankly.

Reid flushes. "Oh."

"Let me help, Reid," Gibbs says quietly. "Trust me for tonight."

Reid looks at him for a long moment. Gibbs can see it, the moment when he surrenders. He sighs a little, his body going pliant against the bed, his eyes closing and his head tipped back.

"Good boy," Gibbs murmurs, leaning down to kiss him, slow and lazy. Reid makes a soft sound, yielding easily to it. "Good." He draws his hands back, but Reid leaves his arms where they are. Gibbs nods in approval and snags the cuffs. They're already attached to the bedframe and he buckles them around Reid's wrists, leaving him spread out against the covers.

"You like having me tied down," Reid says softly.

"Yes, I do," Gibbs says honestly. "I told you, I'm not just in this to get you off."

"I know." Reid smiles a little. "I'm glad."

Gibbs runs a hand down Reid's chest and over his stomach. "No blindfolds, right?" he asks.

Reid shakes his head. "No."

"Okay." Gibbs leans over to the nightstand, snagging a glove and the bottle of lube. He works on the glove and bends down to kiss Reid again, nipping at his lower lip. He lingers over it, kissing Reid until Reid squirms and whines, arching up under him.

Gibbs bites his jaw gently, his throat. He rubs his ungloved thumb over Reid's nipples, taking note of the way Reid moans. Later, he promises himself, pulling back to slick his gloved hand. Reid watches him, but his eyes slide closed and he gasps when Gibbs presses the first finger into him. He's just as tight as Gibbs remembered, and this time it takes him a little longer to relax, to push back.

"Easy," Gibbs murmurs, stroking Reid's stomach with his free hand. "Easy."

He stretches Reid with one finger, patiently, waiting until he relaxes and gulps in a breath. Two fingers are easier, and when Gibbs twists and presses Reid cries out, clenching around him. "Sir--please--"

Gibbs stretches over to kiss him, feeling Reid tremble under him. "Tell me what you need," he says against Reid's mouth. He knows as surely as he knows his own name, but he needs Reid to say it.

"More," Reid whispers. "I need--I--" His head tosses against the pillow and he whines. "It's not enough," he says in a rush.

"No." Gibbs pulls away, long enough to add more lube and a third finger. "I'll get you there," he says, almost to himself.

Reid gasps and his hips roll against Gibbs' hand. He's moving with Gibbs now, the chain on the cuffs rattling where he's pulling against it. "Please--"

If he can still talk, even if it's only to beg, it's not enough. Gibbs reaches out with his free hand and tweaks his nipples, roughly, and Reid keens, twisting against him. He's half-sobbing for breath now and when Gibbs kisses him he can taste sweat, sharp and salty.

Four fingers is easier than he expected, but he still takes his time, playing Reid's body for every bit of feeling he can get. A kiss here, a hand on his chest, and always, always keeping his fingers moving, stretching him just a little more, enough.

Reid gasps and his eyes fly open when he feels Gibbs' thumb press against him. "Oh god," he whispers, and Gibbs pauses for one long moment, until Reid nods jerkily and tips his head back. "Sir, please," he says, voice hoarse and ragged. "Please."

More lube and the slow, even press into him and Reid's crying now, tears on his lashes and his cheeks. "Yeah," Gibbs murmurs under his breath. "This is what you needed, isn't it, pet? Someone to drag you out of your head, back into your body."

He's pretty sure Reid doesn't even register the words, just the tone. For a moment Gibbs isn't sure he'll be able to take it all, even as relaxed as he is, but he pushes and Reid moans and that does it, that's it. "That's it, pet," Gibbs says softly, twisting his hand. "Let go. I've got you. Just let go."

Reid cries out, sharp and hoarse, his whole body shaking as he comes, trembling with aftershocks for a long, long time. Gibbs keeps murmuring to him, just to give him a way to ground himself, letting Reid settle back into his body.

He's still crying softly, barely aware of Gibbs easing his hand out and cleaning him off, taking one quick moment to strip out of his jeans before uncuffing Reid and drawing him in close. "I've got you," he says softly, Reid burrowing against his chest. "I've got you safe."

It's several minutes before Reid subsides, draped against Gibbs with the stillness of exhaustion. He's utterly spent and Gibbs strokes his hair, letting him stay just as he is.

"It was--it was bad," Reid whispers finally. "Sometimes, you just know, and..."

"Yeah." Gibbs shifts, getting them under the covers. Reid's too skinny to stay warm for very long. "Sometimes, you just know."

Reid tucks his head into the crook of Gibbs' neck. "I don't even know who you are," he says, but he makes no movement to pull away.

"Does that matter?" Gibbs asks.

Reid makes a sound that might be a laugh. "I guess not."

"I'll give you the details in the morning," Gibbs says. "Here." He twists to snag the bottle of juice from the nightstand. Half-frozen earlier, it should be cold now. "You need the sugar."

"Thank you." Reid sits up, drinking down half the bottle in a series of long gulps. The remaining half goes a bit more slowly, but it's still completely empty when he hands it back to Gibbs.

"C'mere." Gibbs tosses the bottle in the trash and settles back under the covers, Reid crawling into his arms and curling against him more comfortably than anyone that long and lean should be able to do. "Think you can sleep now?"

"Yeah." Reid sighs a little. "Yeah, I think so."

Gibbs turns off the light, running his hand up and down Reid's back. There's silence for a few minutes, and Gibbs thinks the kid's fallen asleep when he shifts a little.

"Spencer," he says. "That's--that's my name."

"Jethro," Gibbs says in return.

"Jethro. From the Hebrew. Meaning eminent," Reid says sleepily. "Suits you."

"Go to sleep, Spencer," Gibbs says gently. "We can discuss the rest in the morning."

"Mm." Reid snuffles and sighs and a minute later, the deep, steady pattern of his breathing convinces Gibbs that he really _is_ asleep.

He lies awake, listening to Reid breathe in the dark.


End file.
